


Fault Lines

by prettyaveragewhiteshark



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst and Tragedy, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kuvira's not a fascist in this one, Mild Blood, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Strangers to Lovers, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28463988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyaveragewhiteshark/pseuds/prettyaveragewhiteshark
Summary: A Legend of Korra Canon-Divergent fic, set after the events of season 3.Two years after Avatar Korra nearly dies at the hands of Zaheer, she leaves the Southern Water Tribe and seeks safety and healing in Zaofu, the safest city in the world. Suyin is busy bearing the mantle of interim Earth Kingdom leader, so her captain, Kuvira, steps in as Korra's personal guard and trainer to help her along the path of healing. As a connection between them grows, will they be able to find their way past old wounds and new duties to meet each other in the unknown?
Relationships: Korra & Kuvira (Avatar), Korra/Kuvira (Avatar), korra x kuvira, korvira - Relationship
Comments: 18
Kudos: 97





	1. Chapter 1

Korra stared at herself in the mirror, gripping the edges of the sink tight enough that her knuckles went white. Her hair hung loose around her face, long and unkempt. She searched her own eyes, looking for signs of life, finding none. How long? How long would this go on? She’d been in Zaofu for weeks already. She thought being in the safest city in the world would make her feel normal again, would give her at least a little peace, a little rest. And at first, it had. 

She’d been sleeping through the nights when she first arrived. But then the nightmares came back, the same ones over and over again, where she was being chased through mountains and across oceans by the hulking, staggering, monstrous spectre that bore her face and her chains. Its glowing eyes lurked in her consciousness during the day, but the darkness brought it alive. She couldn’t escape it, the memory of her failure, of her near defeat, the feeling of the Avatar state controlling her body even as she fought to keep it at bay, as she fought to stay alive. 

And every time she looked in the mirror with her hair down, that’s who she saw. A raging monster. An out of control Avatar. A broken woman. She couldn’t stand it anymore. Her hand lifted, flexed, breaking off a piece of the metal windowsill with her bending. She shaped it deftly, giving it a handle and a razor sharp blade, and gathered her hair up in one hand. With a single rough slice, she cut through it, coming away with a handful of her hair. She dropped the thick locks into the sink. Her vision was blurred, and she pressed the tears roughly from her cheeks and eyes with the backs of her hands. 

She wasn’t careful, and she realized too late that the knife in her hand was sharp enough to cut any surface it touched. She cursed as she felt a sharp sting in her cheek and dropped the knife. It clinked faintly, muffled by the fallen hair, as it slid and settled into the basin of the sink. Korra pressed her hand to the cut, looking into the mirror. Blood leaked out from where she held her hand against her skin. She winced as she pulled it away to get a better look at the damage. The knife had left a fine slice just beneath her left eye. It wasn’t deep and it was only a few inches long, but it hurt like hell. Korra grabbed some toilet paper, pressing it to the cut to stop the bleeding. 

“Fucking idiot,” she muttered.

She could probably heal it, she knew. Even ordinary tap water would be effective in easing the pain, closing up the skin quickly. Instead she waited til it stopped bleeding and fished a butterfly bandage out of the first aid kit beneath the sink, taping it over the cut. The pain had settled from a stinging to a steady throb over her cheekbone. It felt good. No, not good. Grounding. Tangible. Korra had experienced so much unreachable, unnameable pain these last months, it felt right to feel a pain that she could see, that she could watch heal. She deserved that at the very least, didn’t she?

There was a knock at the front door, and she heard a voice call faintly. 

“Let’s go, Avatar! You’re late.”

Korra combed her fingers through her hair, pulling out a few stray cut strands that hadn’t fallen already. She caught her reflection in the mirror, raking her gaze across the rough appearance of her new haircut, trying to assess how she felt about it. She thought she’d be relieved, but that didn’t quite encompass the feeling she had when she looked herself over. Maybe it wasn’t a relief, but she also didn’t see the mane of her spectre in the mirror anymore and she decided that was enough. 

She changed quickly out of her bedclothes, tossing them in a heap on the floor as she pulled on her exercise gear, then grabbed her bag and headed to the door. She pulled it open and stepped outside. It was still dark as night, too early for the guards to have opened Zaofu’s walls yet. Korra knew that even if they did, it would shed precious little light across the city. The sun wouldn’t rise for another few hours.

Kuvira pushed off the wall beside the door where she’d been leaning. “About time,” she said, her attention on her arm bindings as she adjusted them at the wrist. “I was about to come in and get you myself.”

She cut an intimidating figure in her black tank top and bloused green pants, the strength in her shoulders apparent even in the dim pre-opening light. Her hair hung down her back in a long braid, her hairstyle of choice for their training sessions. She lifted her gaze to Korra, looking as if she were about to say something else, maybe another dig at Korra’s tardiness, but as she focused on Korra and her new appearance, the words died on her lips. 

Korra knew this was going to happen - people don’t just ignore other people’s drastic haircuts - but she hated it anyway. She didn’t want to field the questions that would inevitably accompany the sudden change. Was it too much to ask that everyone just collectively decide not to notice her physical appearance? At least for today?

“That’s new,” Kuvira said finally. Her gaze shifted as she noticed the cut on Korra’s cheek and her brow furrowed ever so slightly. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Korra said, embarrassed. “Just not a very skilled barber.”

“That looks painful. Do you need a healer?”

“No,” Korra said. “It’s just a scratch. Can we go please?”

Kuvira dipped her head, saying nothing, and they set off toward the training grounds. 

* * *

The sweat made her cut sting, but Korra had long since stopped trying to wipe it away. That only seemed to push the salt deeper, make it sting more fiercely. Besides, the last time she’d wiped it her hand had come away streaked lightly with blood. Touching it too much was reopening the wound. Kuvira had asked if she wanted to stop, get cleaned up for a moment, and Korra had answered by moving into a series of airbending attacks that Kuvira was only narrowly able to fend off, effectively ending that conversation. 

They’d been training for hours now. The city walls had been opened and sunlight poured across the training grounds. Korra felt tired, but she would never say so. She was glad Kuvira had been the one to volunteer as her personal escort, guard, and trainer during her time in Zaofu. No one else would have been bold enough to push Korra this hard, to drive the Avatar past her limits. But it was what Korra needed. It had already been two years that she had been out of commission. She had to get back in fighting form sooner than later. The world was waiting for her. 

Wasn’t it? 

Kuvira dropped her hands toward the ground with a heavy foot stomp, then threw a side kick, launching a massive boulder toward Korra. Korra ducked it, or tried to. Her exhausted legs moved just too slow, and the boulder clipped her shoulder, throwing her off balance. She stumbled, trying to stay upright, but she couldn’t get her feet beneath her and ended up crashing heavily to the ground. She lay there, trying to catch her breath, her chest heaving with exertion. 

_ Get up. Get  _ up.

Her body obeyed slowly, arms trembling as she rolled over and pushed herself upright. She finally climbed to her feet, straightening and cocking her hands in a fighting posture, facing Kuvira again. 

“Alright, come on,” she said, trying to ignore how winded she was. 

Kuvira’s posture had relaxed, which told Korra that she had officially called the training session. A burst of anger flared in her chest and she growled, lunging forward, a flash of fire erupting from her clenched fist. 

Kuvira dodged it easily. “We’re done, Korra.”

“We’re not fucking done,” Korra snapped. She felt her legs trembling. It only made her angrier. 

“Korra,” Kuvira said, a warning in her voice. In their weeks together, she had grown bolder with Korra, learning just how far she could go in ordering her around. 

Korra gritted her teeth, feeling the muscle in her jaw flex. With a yell she threw her fists into the air, raising a couple of mid-sized boulders from the ground, throwing them toward Kuvira with a cross-jab combo. Kuvira leapt forward, splitting the boulders and sending the halves smashing into the ground behind her. She landed in a half-kneel, slamming her fists into the ground. A strip of earth rippled from where she made contact, rolling out toward Korra’s legs. Korra didn’t have time to react and was thrown off her feet, her body slamming into the ground spine-first. The air left her lungs in a heavy grunt. 

She lay there, trying to catch her breath, listening to the sound of blood pounding in her ears. A flock of pigeon-sparrows flew overhead in a cluster, barely more than a smattering of black flecks against the blue sky. Her cut stung. She couldn’t bring herself to care. She heard Kuvira’s approaching footsteps, but she didn’t move. 

Kuvira sat beside where Korra lay, leaning back on one hand as she took a deep drink from a waterskin. They sat in silence for a long moment, Kuvira catching her breath too. 

“You’re getting better,” she said finally. 

Korra snorted at that, but didn’t respond. 

“A few weeks ago you couldn’t train for longer than an hour at a time. Now look at you.”

“Now look at me,” Korra repeated dully. “I can’t train for longer than a  _ few _ hours at a time.”

“Some would call that improvement,” Kuvira commented drily. 

She held the water skin out to Korra. Korra sat up slowly, trying to ignore the way her limbs shook, and took it. She drank deeply, breathing through her nose as she swallowed. She wiped her mouth, handing the skin back to Kuvira. 

“It doesn’t matter anyway. None of this will matter until I can actually go into the Avatar state.”

“You’ll get there. It will take time, maybe more than you’d like, but you’ll get there.”

“I’m not so sure,” Korra mumbled. 

“Self pity is a bad look for you,” Kuvira said. “Even with the haircut.”

“Are all of your compliments this backhanded?”

“You tell me.”

Korra grunted. 

Kuvira pulled her towel from off her shoulder, wetting it a little with the waterskin. She shifted closer and reached out, pressing it to Korra’s cheek, wiping carefully. Korra flinched away, startled at the touch. She noticed that the towel was red where it had touched her skin. 

“You’re bleeding,” Kuvira said matter-of-factly. 

“I can get it,” Korra muttered, pushing herself carefully to her feet, trying to ignore the way her heart had suddenly begun racing again. 

Kuvira stood as well, and Korra had to ignore the way Kuvira watched her - carefully, as if she might collapse at any moment. She took the towel wordlessly, pressing it to her cut as she walked slowly into the changing area, trying to hide the way her muscles shook as they supported her weight. 

She stood under the steaming shower stream for a long while, hands pressed to the cool tile wall, just letting the hot water pound against her skin. She touched her cheek where Kuvira had cleaned the blood away. 

Korra had only met Kuvira briefly before Korra had been taken captive by Zaheer. As Suyin’s captain, Kuvira was a part of the task force from Zaofu who helped in the airbender rescue mission. The most Korra knew about her was that she saved her father’s life, so she was surprised when Su told her that Kuvira had personally volunteered to be Korra’s guard for the duration of her stay in Zaofu. Suyin mentioned that Kuvira had taken Zaheer’s break-in to Zaofu and attempted kidnapping of Korra to heart, and had wanted to redeem herself. 

Suyin also told her that Kuvira had specifically stepped down as Suyin’s right hand in order to make herself available to Korra. It wasn’t necessary, Korra had insisted, she wasn’t worth such a demotion. But Kuvira had insisted right back that she needed to do this, that it was a matter of honor. Besides, Kuvira had said, Suyin needed the full attention and assistance of her right hand in order to be an effective interim leader of the Earth Kingdom, and while Kuvira was skilled, she wasn’t skilled enough to be in two places at once. 

Korra couldn’t deny that she slept easier at night knowing Kuvira was in charge of her security detail. Kuvira had hand-selected the security force that rotated their watch day and night in front of the small home that had been Korra’s living quarters the last several weeks. Korra had never seen a group of soldiers so dedicated to their role, and she knew she had Kuvira to thank for it - Kuvira was an uncompromising captain, and would have picked only the finest and most suited men and women for their job in protecting the Avatar. 

Kuvira herself had been a tireless companion to Korra, accompanying her everywhere she went and volunteering to be her sparring and training partner when she realized Korra’s intention to get herself back into fighting shape. At first their relationship had been strictly professional, but slowly and inevitably, they had begun to form something of a friendship. Korra had never met someone quite like Kuvira. She was respectful, refined, intelligent, one of the best benders Korra had ever met, but she was also blunt, aggressive, and wickedly funny when she wanted to be. 

Before coming to Zaofu, Korra had grown used to the White Lotus’ training sessions. Her first sparring session with Kuvira made the White Lotus feel like a kindergarten class. Even then, Kuvira had been holding back, carefully dancing around Korra’s abilities and limits. But Korra wouldn’t have it. She felt that Kuvira could be brutal if she wanted to be, an unforgiving fighter, and she wanted to feel that as much as possible. She wanted to be tested. 

And test her Kuvira did. It had taken very little encouragement for Kuvira to push Korra’s limits, to drive her nearly to the breaking point. But she always knew just where to stop, just how much Korra could take, often better than even Korra did. She could not be goaded into taking it too far, not even when Korra demanded it. 

It was infuriating. 

Korra was used to being listened to, and she’d had her fair share of skirmishes so she knew how to get under people’s skin, how to make them come at her harder, faster, how to escalate nearly any fight. But Kuvira was a different breed, it seemed. She was an unflappable fighter. Korra had very rarely seen her lose her temper, and she had never given in to Korra’s taunts. 

She was a puzzle Korra didn’t know how to solve, unreadable almost all the time. It wasn’t that she was intentionally hiding anything from Korra, she just seemed to have mastered the stiff upper lip. It was an unfamiliar phenomenon. Korra had never known how to do anything but wear her heart on her sleeve, for better or worse. Kuvira was exactly the opposite. She was composed, sometimes cocky, but always cool under pressure, and effortlessly so. It gave her a certain undeniable magnetism that Korra had felt herself drawn to ever since she arrived in Zaofu. 

It didn’t hurt that Kuvira was one of the most beautiful women Korra had ever seen, with her sharp green eyes, her strong posture, her lean, muscled body. Watching her bend had become one of Korra’s favorite things - the way she commanded the earth with effortless skill was truly something to behold. More than once Korra had gotten a boulder to the chest because she’d gotten distracted by the way Kuvira moved. Kuvira’s dark, husky voice certainly didn’t help matters either, and she had a way of glancing at Korra sideways, almost from under her lashes, that made Korra’s stomach flip. 

Korra couldn’t do anything about it, of course. Not only was she sure that Kuvira would never make a move with someone under her watch, but she also had no idea if Kuvira even remotely felt the same way about her. Kuvira was so buttoned down, all of her emotions and true feelings kept tightly under lock and key, that if there was even so much as a shimmer of mutual attraction, Korra was sure she would never know. 

It was probably for the best. Korra was here to recover, to heal, and then she would be gone - back to Republic City to resume her role as Avatar. Kuvira and Zaofu would have to be left behind. And that’s the way it was meant to be. 

“You haven’t drowned yourself in there, have you?” Kuvira’s voice came over the sound of the water, startling Korra out of her thoughts. 

“No, I’m almost done. You can wait for me outside.”

“Yes, Avatar Korra,” Kuvira said, her voice carrying that undertone of dry sarcasm that Korra had grown to expect from her.

She dressed herself quickly, and out of habit began pulling her hair back as if to put it up in a ponytail. It wasn’t until the shortened stands slipped from her hands that she remembered it was all gone. She rumpled it quickly in the mirror, pulling at the ends, hoping that the fact that it was a rough, impulsive decision wasn’t glaringly obvious. 

When she stepped outside, Kuvira was waiting, standing tall and still and patient, staring quietly into the distance with her hands clasped behind her back. She turned as Korra emerged. Korra tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling self conscious, and a small smile crossed Kuvira’s serious face. 

“What?” Korra said, feeling her cheeks get hot.

“It suits you,” Kuvira said mildly. 

Korra looked away. “Thank you,” she said quietly. 

* * *

They took their breakfast with the Beifongs that morning. Suyin had given Korra an open invitation to all family meals, but had also ensured Korra’s kitchen was well-stocked so she could eat in private if ever she wanted to. Korra debated skipping breakfast today - drawing more attention to herself was the last thing she wanted to do - but it felt better to just rip the bandaid off than to know she would see everyone around the city and have to field their reactions one at a time. 

Opal was the one who seemed the most excited, which Korra had already assumed would be the case. She squealed over the haircut for a good several minutes -  _ “You cut your hair! Oh, it looks so good!” -  _ even going so far as to get up from the table to touch it for herself as if to confirm it was real. She noticed the cut on Korra’s cheek, and Korra was able to pass it off as a stupid accident. Suyin gave Korra a warm smile and told her she looked beautiful, and reminded her that the city’s healer was entirely at her disposal if she wanted it. Korra thanked her and left it at that. 

These days, when Korra wasn’t training bending, she was doing everything she could to get back into the Avatar state. After she’d nearly died that day in the mountains, she had lost touch with the Avatar state and hadn’t been able to get it back since. Not for lack of trying, certainly. She spent hours in meditation, trying to still her thoughts, trying to feel a connection to Raava, to no avail. There was only silence and an emptiness in the center of her chest that she had never felt before. 

It was strange how much she had taken the Avatar state for granted. Even before she had learned to airbend, there had always been something, a warmth at her core, that she had come to recognize as the Avatar state at rest. It had been her closest companion all her life. After losing her connection to her past lives, she had been afraid that it would vanish along with the presence of the previous Avatars, but it had stayed, giving her a feeling of hope even in the darkest of moments. 

Now, though, for the first time in her life, that light had gone dark. For the last two years, it had been a hollow pit in the center of her chest, a coldness, an ache she didn’t know how to heal. Tenzin had told her that there was just a block there, likely her body and mind’s way of protecting her, keeping her from feeling it, but sometimes Korra wondered if Zaheer had somehow stolen the Avatar state from her, ripped it from her body when he was dragging the air from her lungs. 

It didn’t help to dwell, of course. What good would it do to wonder if she would ever truly be the Avatar again? But she couldn’t help it. The fear clamored endlessly in the back of her mind, fear that the last time she would ever be in the Avatar state would have been when she was dying, when poison had burned in her blood and driven her mad.

She tried to remember what being in the Avatar state had felt like before the battle with Zaheer, the power and strength it had given her, the clarity, the freedom from fear. But every time she tried to reach that memory, she was inevitably assaulted instead by the memory of the roaring madness, the pure, unfiltered fear of the death spreading through her body, the hurricane of confusion and terror that the Avatar state had become that day. 

It was just a matter of time, Kuvira kept saying, before Korra would be able to access the Avatar state again. Korra clung to that, to Kuvira’s unshakable confidence. Someday, Korra told herself, someday everything would go back to normal again. Someday, she wouldn’t be so broken. Someday, she’d feel that spark of life in her chest again, and everything would be alright. 


	2. Chapter 2

That week, one morning after breakfast, she went home and opened her chest of drawers, pulling out a small scroll. Katara had gifted it to her as a set of guided meditations Aang had used in times he felt far from the Avatar state. 

“ _ These will help,”  _ Katara had said. “ _ Aang swore by them to get him back in touch with the Avatar state. I’ve modified them for you specially. _ ”

Korra had accepted them gratefully, but ever since coming to Zaofu, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to use them. She’d read them each through a few times, and the words that they contained made her stomach turn. Regression meditations, Katara had called them. They were apparently supposed to be very effective in overcoming blocks and trauma. Korra thought they seemed...invasive. But Katara had been so sure, so sincere, Korra thought that there must be something she was misunderstanding. Maybe just doing the meditation would give Korra that same confidence in their effectiveness. 

Today was the day, she decided. This had been a week of drastic measures. First the haircut, and now this. It was time. 

Kuvira escorted her to the usual meditation spot, a secluded, grassy area, enclosed in a copse of trees. There was an elevated knoll that Korra used as her preferred seating spot. When they arrived, Korra handed Kuvira the scroll. 

“Today’s meditation is a little different. I’ll need you to help me with this.”

Kuvira opened the scroll, her eyes moving as she read the text. Her brows lowered ever so slightly and she looked up at Korra. 

“Are you sure?”

“Master Katara gave it to me,” Korra said, not able to help the defensiveness in her tone. “It’s going to help me get into the Avatar state.”

Kuvira’s expression clouded, but she nodded and said nothing. 

Korra took her place on the knoll, folding her legs and pressing her knuckles together. She took three long, deep breaths, letting her eyes drift shut, trying to release the nerves that fluttered in her chest. 

“Alright,” she said finally. “I’m ready.”

Kuvira cleared her throat and began. 

“Relax. Open your mind. Let your breath flow like water.”

Korra inhaled through her nose, then let the breath fall out through her lips on the exhale. 

“You stand on an open plain. You begin to walk forward. You can hear your footsteps in the grass.”

Korra breathed slowly, immersing herself in the visualization. She could see the gray sky, could feel the tall grass brushing her fingertips. 

“In the distance, you can see your friends and family. Picture them clearly. See their faces, hear their voices as they call to you.”

Korra could see them. Mom, dad, Katara, Tenzin. Lin. Suyin. Bolin, Asami, Mako. Opal. Jinora, Ikki, Meelo. Kuvira. 

“Bask in their comfort, in their love and presence. Now, tell them goodbye. Continue forward, past them. Leave them behind. Let their images fade, let their voices grow silent.”

Korra obeyed, moving forward, allowing her mind to erase the people around her. One by one they vanished, until only Kuvira remained, her expression clear and singular as she looked at Korra. For a heartbeat, Korra held her there. Then she let her go, and Kuvira disappeared too. 

“You are alone now. Continue onward. In the distance, you can see new figures. Move toward them. These are your enemies, all of the people who have hurt you before. Picture them clearly. See their faces.”

Korra felt her chest tighten, but she obeyed, allowing her mind to fill in the images, the bodies wavering and solidifying before her like demons rising from a mirage.

Amon, with his hateful, masked face. Taarlok, Vaatu, Unalaq. P’li, Ghazan, Ming-Hua. Zaheer. The Avatar, with chained wrists and glowing eyes. 

Korra jolted, her body instinctively pulling away, but she gritted her teeth, determined to stay in the meditation. 

“Korra,” Kuvira said, hesitation in her voice.

“Keep going,” Korra said shortly. 

She heard Kuvira exhale, but she continued a moment later. 

“Focus on your pain. Allow yourself to be afraid.”

Korra hardly needed the prompting as terror rippled through her chest. 

“Breathe deeply. Relax your body. Let the fear fill you.”

Korra tried to follow the directions, but her breath had grown short and tight, her body tensing as her fight-or-flight instinct reared up, setting every nerve on edge. She exhaled forcefully through her teeth, willing her muscles to unwind. But her enemies stood before her eyes, each of them posed to attack. 

“You are vulnerable to harm. As yourself, you have no strength against your enemies. You must now access the Avatar state, or you cannot win. Tap into the Avatar power you possess. Feel your way into it, through the fear, through the pain. You have strength beyond your greatest imagining.”

Korra tried. She tried to open the light at her center, but as her enemies advanced, their faces locked in expressions of cruelty, suddenly she couldn’t remember what light looked like. She felt herself turning away, fleeing, the animalistic fear of pursuit clamping down on her chest. She was gasping for breath, and as someone grabbed her arm, she cried out, pulling away and suddenly she was on her feet in the clearing of trees, blinking at the sun that poured down. Kuvira stood there with one hand outstretched, the scroll dangling from the other, worry etched across her face. She lowered her hand slowly, her eyes on Korra. 

“It’s alright,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “You’re safe.”

Korra turned away, trying to catch her breath, trying to shake off the feeling of panic. She touched her forehead with a trembling hand. 

“I’m fine,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I’m fine. Let’s go again.”

“I don’t think-” Kuvira started. 

“What?” Korra snapped, turning, a challenge in her voice. 

Kuvira stared at Korra, her eyes searching Korra’s expression. Then she looked away, the worry clearing from her face, replaced by a practised blankness. 

“Whatever you think is best,” she said, her voice flat. 

“Good,” Korra said, settling herself again on the knoll. Her heart still hammered and she breathed in deeply through her nose, willing it to slow. 

They moved through the meditation twice more, with similar results each time - Korra couldn’t stay in the portion with her enemies for longer than a few moments before jerking out of the meditation, breathing heavily. After the third time, her hands were shaking so badly she couldn’t even keep them still enough to press her fists together, and she decided that was enough for one day. Kuvira, who had made a habit of extending their bending sessions long past where Korra thought her limits were, had no objections.

Korra couldn’t bring herself to do the scroll meditations every day. She knew she should, but she reasoned that over time her response to the scroll work would improve, and she would be able to do them more frequently. In the meantime, she performed her standard meditations of sitting in silence and focus every two days out of three, listening to the messages in her body and the world around her. Those days, as she spread her awareness into the energy of her surroundings, she would feel an ease from Kuvira as she stood at the mouth of the clearing and kept out a watchful eye while Korra meditated. 

Korra did her best to keep her focus broad, to take in the sensations of everything around her, but she often couldn’t help but allow her consciousness to move to Kuvira, to her energy field, to the steady movement of the blood and breath through her body. Korra could picture her face even with her eyes closed - that steady gaze, the firm set of her mouth, the occasional turn of her head as she surveyed the surrounding trees and Korra in her meditative trance. These were moments that felt more healing to Korra than any other exercise she had tried so far, and she was loath to leave them when Kuvira roused her from her meditation for their midday meal. 

Nights had started becoming more difficult. With the start of the regression meditations, Korra had begun to be visited more frequently by her nightmares. Sometimes she saw the spread of enemies as they appeared in her meditations - everyone from Amon to Zaheer - but most often she was only faced against Zaheer, or her own spectre self, wild and frightening in the Avatar state. Some nights she was the target of their attacks, but every once in a while she was subjected to watching a replay of the real events as Zaheer pulled the air from the spectre’s lungs. Those times, Korra would feel herself suffocating as she watched, and would startle awake, gasping and clutching at her throat. 

The mornings after those dreams, she was particularly glad to have Kuvira standing outside her door. She was an anchor, a constant which Korra relied upon to feel some sort of normalcy after being so shaken by the nightmares. Sometimes it seemed that Kuvira noticed the haunted look in Korra’s face after a particularly terrifying iteration of her dreams. Ordinarily, Kuvira’s greeting of choice was, “Ready?” But these times, when Korra felt the shadows of her dreams still clinging to her shoulders, Kuvira would inevitably greet Korra with, “Good morning, Avatar. How are you?”

Korra almost never told the truth, but she suspected Kuvira wasn’t expecting that of her. Speaking about the nightmares just brought them into the light of day and that was the last place Korra wanted them to be. So instead she would nod and shrug and tell Kuvira, “I’m alright. How are you?” Kuvira would always have a response ready, whether it be a story of one of their newest recruits fumbling a formality in front of the leadership, or a strange dream she’d had, or a new development in the plans for the city. Always, she was ready to instill the safety of the mundane into Korra, to bring her out of the dark of her haunted dreams. 

Nightmares notwithstanding, Korra felt things beginning to improve. Her body was growing stronger, her stamina increasing by the day, incrementally but with an undeniable steadiness. Kuvira had done her job, and done it well. Their sessions increased in both length and frequency, and Korra noticed that as Kuvira ratcheted up the intensity of her bending, Korra was able to match her at every turn. She still couldn’t best her, not yet, but just being able to keep up felt like a victory. 

“You’re improving,” Kuvira said to her one morning after practice as they headed into the changing rooms. “I’m impressed.”

Korra felt on top of the world, elated that she had managed to keep up with Kuvira’s pace the whole session. She chuckled, shrugging, trying to contain her glee as she wiped the back of her neck with a towel. “Yeah, seems like I am. I have you to thank for that.”

“No,” Kuvira said, shaking her head. “I’m only a facilitator. This is entirely your victory.”

“Don’t be so modest,” Korra said, tossing the towel playfully at Kuvira. “I trained with the White Lotus for a year before coming here, and you saw what state I was in when I arrived. You remember our first training? I was like a baby deer-elk out there, spent more time on the ground than on my feet.”

Kuvira chuckled at that. “You’re exaggerating.”

“Oh, whatever,” Korra laughed, beginning to unwind her arm wrappings. “Come on, it’s okay, you can say I sucked.”

“I won’t speak poorly of the White Lotus,” Kuvira said. She was pointedly not looking at Korra as she opened her locker, but Korra saw a telltale smile tugging at the corners of her serious mouth. “I’m sure they’re fine, upstanding people. With an honorable mission, a whole world to protect, and just not a single decent bending trainer to be found.”

Korra laughed loudly. “That’s what I thought. I was a mess.”

“A lack of competency on their part is hardly your failing, Korra,” Kuvira scoffed, walking past with her uniform bundled into her arms and pulling the curtain closed on one of the private shower stalls. 

“No, but I have plenty of my own failings to worry about,” Korra retorted. 

She unwound the second arm wrap halfway to her wrist when she realized she’d started from the wrong end and found herself in a tangle she couldn’t undo without dropping the roll of wraps onto the ground. 

“Hey, are you decent?” she called, moving over to Kuvira’s shower stall. 

“I’m dressed, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Korra rolled her eyes. “My wraps got tangled. Help me out?”

The curtain opened and Kuvira stood there in only a sports bra, her pants halfway unlaced, the band of her undershorts peeking out. Korra looked down quickly at her hands as her heart leapt into her throat. She could feel a flush rising in her neck and she hoped it wasn’t as red and hot as it felt. Kuvira took the wrap in one hand and Korra’s arm in the other, threading the ribbon of fabric back through itself a few times to undo the knot. 

“You’re too hard on yourself, you know,” Kuvira said. “You deserve far more credit for overcoming as much as you have.”

She freed Korra from the tangled fabric, but continued the process of unwrapping her hand the rest of the way, carefully rolling the cloth in deft, smooth movements as she went. Korra glanced up at her, trying to ignore the way her chest tightened at Kuvira’s proximity and the touch of her skilled hands. 

“Thanks,” Korra said, hoping her voice sounded steadier than she felt. “I guess I keep thinking of how far I have to go still and I don’t want to pat myself on the back just yet, you know?”

Kuvira pulled the last of the wrapping away and pressed the neatly rolled bundle into Korra’s palm. 

“For someone so significant, you think very little of yourself,” she said. Her green eyes were steady, holding Korra’s gaze. “You are one of the most remarkable people I have ever met.”

Korra hardly knew what to say. Her heart was pounding in her throat. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from Kuvira’s, and she realized distantly that she didn’t want to. Kuvira’s expression had grown suddenly serious, and her eyes flickered down to Korra’s lips for the briefest of moments before she looked back up to her eyes. 

Then there was the sound of voices as another training group entered the changing rooms and Korra was turning away, gripping the wrap tightly in her fist, her heart fluttering like a caged bird as she heard the shower curtain slide shut behind her.  She went to her bag, tucking the wraps away, and allowed herself a quiet exhale, closing her eyes for a brief moment. Kuvira’s smell, the musk of her skin, lingered in her senses for a long time after.


	3. Chapter 3

Opal asked to join them for training a few days later. She was preparing to return to Air Temple Island soon, and she wanted to brush up on her airbending skills before going back. 

“I don’t want Tenzin to think I’ve been slacking off,” she explained over breakfast. 

Kuvira had no issue with it, and Korra was more than happy to help Opal train. She felt a little guilty for not having offered sooner, but when she said as much, Opal waved her off in that sweet Opal way of hers. 

“Oh I know you’ve got bigger fish to fry, being the Avatar and all. I just want a few pointers to make sure I’m on the right track.”

Korra felt strangely excited the morning of the training as she made her way to the field with Kuvira and Opal in tow. It was strange to be the trainer instead of the perpetual trainee, but it felt like a welcome change. Once they were warmed up, Korra turned to Opal. 

“Alright, show me what you got.”

She watched as Opal moved into a series of airbending moves. Korra recognized them right away. After the incident with Zaheer, Opal had returned home to Zaofu for safety, but Tenzin had sent her with several airbending scrolls to practice with until she returned to Republic City. They were the same scrolls Korra had drilled over and over again when she was trying to learn airbending, and a hundred thousand times more once she’d finally unlocked it. 

Seeing Opal doing them put a strange, happy ache in Korra’s chest. It was like going back in time for a moment, returning to her younger self as she lived in the elation of the newly discovered Avatar state, as she became familiar with the expansive, joyful, powerful experience of airbending. She found herself smiling broadly as Opal moved through the stances, her short hair fluttering around her face in the wind she kicked up with her movements. 

When she finished, she straightened, clasping her hands in front of her body, looking a little self conscious. 

“How was that?”

Korra shook her head in amazement. “Well, I don’t know what you need me for. You’re basically a master already.”

Opal laughed, blushing. “Oh, come on.”

“Honestly, Opal, you’re doing really well. Even if I didn’t do anything, I think Tenzin would be really impressed.”

“Thank you,” Opal said sincerely. Then she folded her arms over her chest. “But I’m having a hard time believing that there’s nothing the Avatar could teach me.”

“Alright, alright,” Korra laughed. “Let’s try some one on one stuff. Kuvira, you’re in charge of pulling her off me if she starts kicking my ass too hard.”

“I’ll be ready,” Kuvira said with a chuckle. 

Korra moved into the field with Opal, trying to remember the ins and outs of airbending. It was one thing to know the moves by doing them, but it was entirely another to say them out loud, to instruct someone else. 

“This is one Tenzin will probably have you do a lot. The idea is to get behind your opponent before they can get behind you. You’ll want to use airbending to try to turn me around, or to get yourself behind me before I can face you. The first one to touch the other’s back wins.”

“Got it,” Opal said, her face going serious as she lifted her hands into a defensive position. 

Korra moved slowly, carefully, allowing Opal to make the first move. Opal went with the standard choice, launching herself into the air to arc over Korra’s head. It was easy enough for Korra to turn before she landed, sending a gust of wind at Opal’s shoulder that turned her mid-air, landing her facing away. Korra darted in, tapped her spine, and moved back again. 

Opal spun, looking surprised. “You got me,” she said. 

“I have a lot of practice,” Korra laughed. “Come on, try again.”

Opal was a quick learner. Korra remembered trying the over-the-head move more than once, trying to distract Tenzin with an air blast or a feint, in case she could get past his defenses that way, but it never worked. Opal didn’t even bother with another attempt, taking her cues from Korra as she sent blasts of air toward her to throw Korra off balance. Korra could have dodged them easily, and sometimes she did, but she didn’t want to make this feel impossible for Opal so she took the hits a few times, allowing it to take her off balance. She had to dodge quickly those times as Opal whipped around her side, hand outstretched to get her touch, only ever missing by a hair’s breadth. 

They moved around each other in a weaving dance and Korra found herself smiling. It was a special challenge to only be able to use her airbending. It felt like exercising an unused muscle. She landed touch after touch on Opal’s back, which only seemed to add fuel to Opal’s determination. She was a dogged fighter, her eyes focused, her face set in a serious, tight-lipped expression. Every time Korra touched her, she let out a sharp huff of breath before she moved away, resetting. Korra kept calling out instructions to her. 

“Use your bending to keep you light on your feet. Pay attention to which way I’m moving the air, it’ll help you anticipate my moves. Remember, you’re not moving through the air, it’s moving through you.”

They’d been going for what felt like hours, and Opal still hadn’t gotten a touch. Korra realized she might need to back things down a little, and silently chided herself for not realizing that sooner. She slowed herself ever so slightly, still ducking and dodging Opal’s movements. Opal spun towards Korra, then ducked at the last moment. Korra saw it coming, but she was sure not to move until it was too late, and she felt Opal’s hand tap lightly against her back. 

She turned to see Opal’s face split in delight, all the composure of the session vanishing in an instant as her mouth opened excitedly and she punched both her hands into the air. 

“I did it! I touched you!”

“Way to go,” Korra laughed, giving her an enthusiastic double high-five. “You’re a natural.”

“Kuvira, did you see that?”

Kuvira was standing off to the side, her arms folded across her chest. She smiled, nodding. 

“I did. Well done, Opal.”

“Whew, airbending is no joke,” Opal said, putting her hands on her hips as she caught her breath. “I don’t know how you do this every day.”

“Takes a lot of time and practice,” Korra chuckled. “I’ve been doing this for years, remember. You’re in a really great place for being so new at it.”

“I think I need more cardio or something,” Opal laughed. “I’m wiped.”

“We can be done for the day,” Korra nodded. “That was a solid session.”

“Does that mean the Avatar is finished as well?” Kuvira asked, walking up. 

“In your dreams,” Korra scoffed. She felt amped, her blood pounding. 

“How about an airbending demonstration, for Opal?” Kuvira suggested. “No other elements. It will be a good isolation exercise.”

Opal nodded excitedly and Korra grinned.

“Say no more,” she said, backing away from Kuvira and settling into her defensive stance as Opal jogged off the field. 

They circled slowly for a moment, sizing up the other’s motions. Kuvira struck first, her hands moving quickly to throw a succession of fist-sized stones. Korra threw herself sideways into a barrel roll, cocooning her body in a shaft of air to deflect the projectiles. They flew in every direction, some pelting into the ground as Korra landed. She pinwheeled her arms, throwing two long, snaking bolts of air toward Kuvira. 

It had always amazed her the way Kuvira could avoid her air attacks. It was one of the hardest things for any non-airbender to do, as the projectiles were invisible, but Kuvira was so skilled at watching the movements of her opponent that she was able to anticipate the presence of the air and avoid it expertly. This time was no different as she dodged deftly out of the way. Her hands came forward then and crossed in a spearing movement, sending a slab of earth low toward Korra’s feet. Korra leapt over it quickly, and as she landed she swung her arms behind herself, catching the slab in a net of wind and slinging it back around at Kuvira. Kuvira’s arms came up defensively, then went wide at the last moment, blasting the slab apart into pieces. 

“You’ll notice, Opal,” Kuvira called, slightly winded with exertion as she danced back into a defensive stance, “that the Avatar utilizes the momentum of her opponent’s attacks as a way to create attacks of her own. This is a strong fighting tactic for any airbender. It deflects your enemy’s strength, uses it against them.”

Korra blinked at the analysis, but Kuvira didn’t seem to be mocking her. Korra had known that Kuvira must have known her fighting style well enough to train her, but to hear it put into words like that was strange and oddly flattering. She couldn’t let it shake her, though, and she leapt into the air, scissoring her legs and launching two blasts of wind at Kuvira. 

Kuvira dodged the first, ducking as it went by her head, but the second clipped her leg, knocking her onto one knee. Korra swung into a roundhouse, cutting another strike down in an arc toward Kuvira, aiming to knock her flat. Kuvira was too quick, dropping into a backward roll and somersaulting up onto her hands. As she gained her feet, she used her momentum to leap into a backflip, the trailing of her arm and leg lifting two jutting columns of stone toward Korra. 

Korra ran at them, leaping onto one and using a wind tunnel to blast off the second. She lifted her fists over her head as she came down, swinging them forward and slamming them into the ground in a massive gust. Kuvira was ready, lifting a wall of earth to protect her from the powerful wind. As she dropped it and moved back into her stance, she spoke again. 

“That,” she said, glancing at Opal, “was an earthbending move, slightly modified to accommodate an airbender attack. Proof that studying other schools of bending can further your skill in airbending immensely.”

Without any warning, Kuvira spun sideways into a high kick. Korra only narrowly blocked the boulder that came hurtling toward her, warding it off with a concentrated blast of air. They traded blows furiously, their skill matched at a fever pitch. Korra was surprised at how well she was holding her own. She’d always thought that her greatest strength came from having control of all four elements. It turned out that narrowing her focus to one enhanced her skills instead of limiting them. Maybe there was something to isolation training after all. 

She felt heady with her strength. This was the best she’d felt since being paralyzed and something about being head-to-head with Kuvira and not giving her a single inch was intoxicating. She’d yet to take any serious hits. Something about today felt new, different. Maybe it was Opal’s presence, the thrill of having an audience who was looking to her for guidance, or maybe it was knowing that Kuvira had been paying such close attention to her over these past few months. Maybe it was the feeling that her body had really, truly begun to heal. Maybe it was the idea, the flicker of possibility, that all was not lost after all. 

Whatever it was, it bolstered her movements, making her attacks bolder, her defenses more definitive and efficient. She hadn’t landed a real hit on Kuvira since one day a few weeks into training, and that time she knew that Kuvira had given it to her the same way Korra had given Opal her touch today. A consolation prize. Something in her suddenly wanted to win a hit fair and square, prove that she was improving, that Kuvira’s training had actually been worth all this effort. 

So she fought, pouring all her knowledge and skill into the battle until her arms and lungs burned with equal fervor. Kuvira had just launched a volley of earth at her, and she saw an opening. She ducked beneath the projectiles and brought her hand out in a lightning-fast slashing movement just as Kuvira reached back for another attack. It landed. She heard Kuvira gasp, stumbling back from the strength of the hit, clutching at her arm as she turned. 

Korra stood, about to exclaim in victory, when she saw that Kuvira’s expression was strained. Kuvira looked up at her, shock and pain on her face. 

A disbelieving laugh left her lips. “You got me,” she said. 

Kuvira looked back down at her arm, lifting her hand from where it was clamped across her bicep, and Korra saw blood. 

“Holy shit,” Korra heard herself say. She closed the distance between them at a run. “Fuck, Kuvira, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“It’s alright, I’m okay,” Kuvira said, waving Korra off with a bloody palm as Opal ran over. “Just a cut, nothing we can’t fix.”

“Oh my gosh,” Opal said, her eyes going wide. “Stay here, I’m going to go get a first aid kit.”

Opal ran off, and Korra led Kuvira to sit on the side of the training field despite her protestations. 

“Korra, honestly. I’m fine. Don’t make this a big deal.”

“Shut up, Kuvira,” Korra responded simply. 

She sat beside Kuvira, unwrapping her own arm binding quickly and moving Kuvira’s hand away from where she held the cut. There was blood, a lot of it, and Korra dabbed as carefully as she could at it with the bundled arm wrap, trying to clear it away so she could see the damage. The gash was long, a good four inches across. It hadn’t gone to the bone, but it was still bleeding heavily enough that Korra couldn’t tell just how deep it was. 

“I’m so sorry,” Korra murmured, feeling a little sick with herself. Why was she so fucking careless all the time? 

Kuvira winced as Korra applied pressure, but she shook her head. “Don’t apologize. It was a good hit. Well earned.”

“You’re so fucking weird,” Korra snorted, and Kuvira laughed. 

Korra picked up her waterskin, bending the water out. 

“Korra, that’s not necessary,” Kuvira protested, taking Korra’s wrist to stop her movement. “Opal is coming with a first aid kit.”

“This is more than a bandaid can fix, alright? Let me do this.”

Kuvira looked at Korra for a long moment, then finally nodded and looked away, releasing Korra’s wrist. 

“It might sting a little,” Korra cautioned as she moved the water to enclose the wound. 

Kuvira didn’t react except to close her eyes, her brows knitting a little. The water clouded darkly as it absorbed the blood, then glowed a bright blue. Korra moved her hands over it, pressing the healing power into the wound. She felt the cells knitting slowly, the blood flow from the veins and capillaries slowing as they regenerated a little at a time. It took several minutes until the bleeding had stopped completely, and when Korra moved the water away all that was left was a faint pink cut. 

Kuvira looked down at it. “Impressive.” Her gaze lifted to Korra. “Thank you.”

“I put it there,” Korra shrugged. “I hardly deserve to be thanked for making it better.”

“Well I appreciate you using your bending to help me all the same. I wouldn’t want to cause you unnecessary strain.”

“Ah, it’s easy enough to do. I couldn’t heal anything really severe, but it’s simple enough to help with cuts and that kind of thing.”

Kuvira blinked, her brows furrowing ever so slightly as a realization crossed her face. 

“What?” Korra asked. 

“Then why didn’t you heal this?” Kuvira asked, her hand coming up to brush the small scar on Korra’s cheek, a faint reminder of the injury from when she cut her hair.

Korra felt her heart jump at Kuvira’s touch and she looked away, bending the bloody water a few feet off before dropping it to soak into the turf. 

“I don’t know. I just...wanted to feel it, I guess.”

Kuvira’s brows furrowed deeper, her eyes flickering across Korra’s face like she was trying to read a page from a book written in a language she didn’t understand. 

Before either of them could say anything else, Korra heard the sound of footsteps and Kuvira’s eyes left her face, focusing past Korra. Korra turned to see Opal jogging up, a small metal case clutched in her hand. 

“Sorry, I came as quick as I could.” Her eyes fell on Kuvira’s arm as Kuvira stood. “Oh. Well that’s looking a lot better.”

“Sorry you went all that way,” Korra said, getting to her feet. “I didn’t realize how deep it was, and I figured it would need a little more healing than what a first aid kit could do.”

“I’ll still need to bind it,” Kuvira said, holding out her hand and taking the case from Opal. “Thank you, Opal.”

* * *

When Korra got back home, she brought her gym bag into the bathroom, digging out the arm wrap she’d used to mop up Kuvira’s blood. She turned on the tap, as cold as it would go, and held the wrap under the stream. Once it was soaked, she wrung it out between her hands, watching the water turn a murky red-brown. She soaked it again, and wrung it out, repeating the motion over and over again - soak, wring, soak, wring. The water ran clearer each time, but it seemed like it would never be truly clean. No matter how many times she rinsed the wrap, it seemed to defy her efforts to eradicate the evidence of the damage she’d caused, the faint traces of Kuvira’s blood swirling like ghosts against the white porcelain.

  
  



End file.
